DADDY, PAM’S EATING CIGARETTE BUTTS

As noted heretofore, I lived in Kansas City, Missouri from the ages of 2 thru 4. I only have six vivid memories of those early years in Kansas City. The one I addressed earlier (i.e., shooting my sister in the mouth with an arrow), trying to find my lost Dad, cutting my hand on a broken glass, getting sick drinking too much Howdy Doody grape juice, watching my sister eating cigarette butts and traveling home to Anacoco, Louisiana by train in the KCS railroad.

My father smoked cigarettes from his days in the Navy during World War II until the age of 68 in 1996. He passed away in 2013 at the age of 85. He always smoked Viceroy cigarettes, the only person I ever knew who smoked that brand. Although I was very young when we lived in Kansas City, basically a toddler, I can still remember Dad coming home from work, sitting in his favorite chair in our living room reading the newspaper, while Pam and I would watched television or played in the small living room and Mom made dinner.

On one particular day, Dad came home, picked up the newspaper, went into the living room, lit a cigarette and started reading the newspaper with his arms outstretched, holding the two vertical sides of the news paper with his hands. By his side was a large tall ashtray about ten inches in diameter. It was a beaut, resting on the top of chair arm height brass stand made just for the ashtray. I still recall it had a brass arch that went about 6 inches over the ashtray that had a brass lion’s head on this arch-like handle, which allowed own to pick up the entire ashtray and stand and move it from one area of the house to another.

Neither Mom or Dad had cleaned the ashtray in a while. It was full of cigarette butts. In my 4-year old mind it must have had 12 to 15 butts in the tray. I was sitting on the floor playing with a toy and my back turned to Dad. He was mesmerized by the news he was reading, sitting for the longest with the paper opened in front of him, paying no attention to me or Pam. I happened to turn to see Pam eating one of Dad’s cigarette butts. She was just old enough to stand and walk. I immediately said, “Daddy, Pam is eating cigarettes.” He was so engrossed in the article he was reading that he didn’t bother to drop the paper to see what she was doing. Instead, me responded with, “Be quite, I’m trying to read.”

Although these were cigarette butts, Dad never smoked a cigarette all the way down to the filter. Each one had a little tobacco left on the butt. Pam continued to chomp away, making quite a mess on her lips and chin, with a combination of drool and small tobacco leaves beginning to accumulate. Mom was out of hearing distance and in the next room because we had the television blaring.

Pam continued to eat the cigarette butts and again I warned Daddy, stating “Daddy, Pam is still eating cigarettes.” And again, he continued to hold the paper up saying, “Buddy, I told you I’m reading the newspaper.”

Within a couple of minutes Pam was as sick as a dog. She almost looked green. The next thing I knew she was throwing up on herself and the floor. This time I really shouted out, “Daddy, Pam is sick and vomiting!” He jerked down the paper prepared to let me have it and saw his poor sick little girl with tobacco and vomit all around her mouth, chin and chest. Dad swooped Pam up off the floor and yelled, “Why didn’t you tell me she was eating cigarettes?” I was whining, “I did Daddy, I did!”

Daddy rushed Pam into the kitchen to get a wet cloth and start cleaning Pam up. Mom saw what was happening and lit into him. She went on and on about how she had trusted him to watch over the kids while she cooked. Dad when into major spin mode and was making up BS on the fly, but Mom wasn’t having it. He was caught red-handed and he knew it.

I suppose this was my first time in life to realize the value of information. As soon as I realized it I seized the opportunity and said, “I kept telling Daddy Pam was eating cigarette butts Mom, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” It was on that day that I lost an ally in Dad and became Mom’s “Deep Throat, ” a role I used over and over throughout the years with great success.

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